Debts Paid
by desolate butterfly
Summary: [OuranNaruto crossover, crack] Kakashi finds himself in a jam when Naruto breaks a priceless antique in the hallowed halls of Ouran High School and has to pay the price. A KyouyaKakashi ficlet.


Title: Debts Paid  
Author: desolate butterfly  
Genre: crack, smut, crossover-fic  
Pairings: Kyouya/Kakashi, implied Naruto/Sasuke, NaruSakuSasu, Kabuto/Kakashi  
Rating: PG - 13  
Summary: Kakashi finds himself in a jam when Naruto breaks a priceless antique in the hallowed halls of Ouran High School and has to pay the price.

--

"They look uncomfortable."

Kakashi turns in the direction of the dry voice and ends up facing yet another boy in a blue suit uniform—this one with dark-hair and spectacles. He looks back at the table where Sasuke is scowling and yanking at the tie around his neck with one hand and warding off a group of squealing girls with the other.

Beside him, Naruto has already shrugged out of his jacket and has it slung loosely around his waist; almost as casual as the arm he has around Sasuke's shoulders. He's grinning and leaning towards the jumble of lace and pale silk skirts, but the position of his body puts Sasuke behind him, out of the line of fire, as it were.

Kakashi thinks it's kind of cute.

"They'll adjust soon enough," he says, waving a hand absently in the other boys' direction. "They'll have to; seeing as we still have a debt of…how much did you say it was Mr…"

"Ohtori Kyouya," the boy supplies as he makes a quick calculation. "And you owe forty-thousand yen, give or take a couple hundred."

Kakashi nods contritely. "We're very sorry Naruto broke your priceless antique. We had no idea he was very so bad at hitting targets from long distances."

Kyouya adjusts his glasses with a slide of a finger and the light reflects off them so that Kakashi can no longer read his eyes. It is a movement Kakashi has seen Kabuto make several times and he makes note of it.

"Sakura-chan seems to be enjoying herself, at least," Kakashi continues, gesturing towards the girl in the corner talking animatedly with a short blonde kid and a hulking dark-haired boy.

He watches Kyouya's hands as he turned to look as well—the graceful line of the boy's body and the slow deliberation of his movement. There's something that screams danger at Kakashi but he can't quite figure out what it is.

"You know," Kyouya says, suddenly, tone bland and matter-of-fact, "The Host services are not free." His head is still pointed in Sakura's direction when he says it.

_'Oh,'_ Kakashi's brain supplies. _'So that's it.'_

"Of course they're not," he sighs out loud. "So how much do we owe you with those fees on top?"

"Sixty-thousand yen."

"…I don't suppose the boys are going to be able to make that much in a single day's work."

"I don't suppose."

Kakashi looks ruefully at the table where Sasuke is now reaching twitching fingers towards the kunai in his belt and Naruto has an elbow dug tight into the other's ribs, a friendly grin still spread across his face. He looks into the corner and knows that the only thing keeping Sakura from punching her way through the throng of girls surrounding Sasuke and Naruto is the lively discussion of martial art styles and the chocolate cake the other two Host Club members are providing.

Kakashi sighs again and puts his Icha Icha book back in his vest pocket.

"I'm not good with people, you know," he says.

Kyouya looks back at him, eyebrow raised. "Neither is Mori-kun, except for Hunney-sempai."

Kakashi tries again. "I don't like young girls. I scare them," he says, this coming out a bit desperate, despite his attempts to keep calm.

"I don't think you could scare these girls," Kyouya states, coldly. "But we don't really need another cold ninja-type. Sasuke-kun and Mori-sempai provide those roles just fine. Three of those would be overkill, don't you think?"

Kakashi can feel a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck and stick to the cloth of his mask. He covers an itch by tilting his head sideways in a mock thoughtful look.

"A private arrangement then?" he asks, as smoothly as if this sort of thing happened everyday.

Those dark shielded eyes look him up and down and Kakashi resists the urge to slouch deliberately, like a sulky teenager. Kyouya steps toward him, slow and measured, and takes Kakashi's gloved hand in his own.

The palm is cool and a little dry. Kakashi shivers, despite himself.

"Let's find a room then," is all the boy says, dropping Kakashi's hand and walking off.

The jounin watches him for a few seconds, bemused by the arrogance. Then he follows, hands in his pockets.

"The mask stays on," is all he says as he stretches out on the bed, arms above his head.

The boy slides careful fingers up Kakashi's shirt and clinically starts to massage and fondle his chest.

"It isn't your mask I'll be taking off today," he says, deadpan.

Kakashi holds back a laugh even as his non-sharingan eye narrows and he glances towards the senbon in his boot.

"You wouldn't happen to know a guy named Kabuto, would you?" he asks, casually, fingers flickering to the lacings of the boy's shirt.

"…Who?"

That answer is not quite innocent, and neither are the hands down Kakashi's pants.

He decides the interrogation can wait a few minutes.

--

fin.

--


End file.
